Category: Uncategorized

Wondering and Wandering: Camel Swallowing

Swallowed any camels lately? In Matthew 23, Jesus is really coming down pretty hard on the religious establishment, the Pharisees. He calls them blind guides and hypocrites more than once in the tirade. Jesus seems very concerned that they attempt to make a really good presentation, but lack the inner substance to back it up. They were majoring in the minors and leaving the camel in the middle of the room unattended…and what a mess that ended up making of things!

How many of our homes are decorated for Christmas, both inside and out, but our hearts are sorely unattended to? How many parties and functions will we go to, dressed in our holiday best, but not even considering our spiritual attire? How many gifts will be purchased to impress spouses, lovers, kids and grandkids, bosses, and friends while the greatest gift we can give to the One who deserves it most will be either ignored or stretched so thin that little would even remain to give?

I read a post online by someone recently who was going on about how much they love Advent. They love the songs, the parties, the shopping, the eats. It made my heart sad. The purpose of Advent is not to get the world around us ready for the biggest gift giving day of the year. The purpose of Advent is to reflect on the greatest gift ever given and to be sure that our hearts are ready to receive it.

The Wisemen rode camels to find Jesus. That seems a much wiser thing to do than to swallow one and miss the Master.

Wondering and Wandering: Fear and Freedom

“For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.'” (Rom. 8:15).

It’s a lot easier to write when I don’t envision my friends’ smirking faces as they read what I’ve written. In particular, I can see Heidi’s grin as she scans over these words. I see her face because it’s her voice I hear in my head right now. I’ve been playing back a conversation we had on Friday as we ate ice cream and sucked down several cups of coffee. “What are you so afraid of?” she asked me.

I had no answer then. I don’t have one now. What I do have is a heavy weight sitting right on my chest, squashing me, squeezing all the air out. Fear is that weight, but I don’t know what it is fear of exactly. Failure. Rejection. Pointlessness. All of the above. None of the above.

Fear is not a new companion. I have lived most of my life afraid of something. I remember the physical frozenness when I was in hospital chaplaincy training and how hard it was to make myself walk through that door. I have been so afraid of driving in weather. Fear has affected my friendships, my relationship with my husband, my job performance.

So when I started researching for today’s word, I started by doing a keyword search on bound. Nothing jumped. I switched to bind. Nope. I googled “spiritual bondage.” Getting closer. Then I pulled out my Theological Dictionary and was directed to the above scripture reference. It wasn’t until I read it a few times that one word jumped up and bit me on the nose. Again.

Chapter 7 of Romans is one of the Bible’s great wrestling matches. My other favorite is Jacob and the Angel. Anyway, in Romans 7, Paul is describing the internal wrestling match he has between doing the good he wants to do and the not-good that he ends up doing. Near the end of the match, Paul asks the question, “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” The answer is Romans 8:1: Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death. Paul wants us to know that God has not set us free to be put into slavery, or bondage AGAIN.

In Christ Jesus we are not just set free, but we are adopted into the closest of relationships. To call God Abba is to refer to him in a dependent and loving way as would a child and with the respect that an adult has for his or her parent. It is a relationship that is completely secure and that’s what releases us from the bondage of fear.

As we wade even deeper into Advent, let us marvel at the freedom that Jesus came to offer. Let’s take time to identify and surrender our fears to him. I mean seriously, aren’t you getting tired of the wrestling match?
1. Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

2. Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit,
raise us to thy glorious throne.

http://www.hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh196.sht

Wondering and Wandering to Christmas: Kicking Against the Goads

He marched into the office where Pepa and I were working on our computers. Came right over to my chair and spun me around, and proceded to climb up into my lap. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. It was Wednesday evening at 6:30. He needed a nap. It had been the same for pattern for several weeks. The week before, as soon it was time to load into the car to head for church, as I finished buckling him in and was heading to my seat he asked, “Would it be all right if I slept on the way?” We hadn’t gone two blocks before he was a limp ragdoll, fast asleep.

So that night when he climbed into my lap, with his head nestled into my shoulder, I began to rock in my chair and sing the ABC Lullaby:
Apples for babies, cats, and dogs. Elephants, foxes, giraffes and hogs. Ice cream. Jelly beans. Kangaroos and llamas. Monkey’s nose. Ostrich toes. Penguins quietly race on snow. Turkey umbrellas. Violin’s wings. Xylophones. Yo-yos. Zebras.

I probably sang it about ten times and I stopped to listen to his deep, rest-full breaths. Down for the count.

The ABC Lullaby is something I came up with right after the birth of our granddaughter six years ago. I sang it to her every day of her first six months, then she and her mommy moved away and started a new life. They soon added a baby brother to their family and he heard the song, but not nearly as much. It was the third grandchild that we watched nearly every day who has owned the song as his.

Another time, he seemed so tired and out of sorts that I pulled him onto my lap and started to sing–hoping for both our sakes that he would fall asleep. He wanted no part of it. He put his hand over my mouth to keep me from singing. He looked up and tiredly explained, “I don’t want to sleep.”

Isn’t that just like us? We know what we need, but hold up our hand, telling loved ones and maybe even God that we really don’t want it. We don’t want to change. We don’t want to give or forgive. We don’t want move on. We don’t want to try. We just can’t right now. We know in our heart of hearts we should, so why not give in, give up, go on? What song have you been fighting against hearing? What message have you tried to avoid?

Today in our Advent journey the phrase, “Kick against the goads” came to mind. It’s not a phrase we hear or use much these days. It refers to the poke or prod that is given to move or direct cattle or donkeys. It can be pretty sharp and painful for the animal being directed, and often they will rear up or kick up against the poke.

Sometimes the pokes or prods we feel and face come gently as a word from a friend, but sometimes it’s more like smack upside the head. What will it take to get your attention? And will you listen, move, obey? Aren’t you tired of fighting, of kicking against the goads?

Wondering and Wandering: What’s Your IQ?

1Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children 2and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Ephesians 5:1-2, NIV)

Imitations. Does that bring a good or bad image to your mind? When I think of imitations one of the first things to come to mind are the cheap, poor copies of Barbie that I had as a child. I longed for the real thing, but the closest I ever got was a Woolworth’s imitation. Recently I shared a recipe for Seafood Lasagna with a friend and it called for “imitation crab.” She asked if she could use the real thing because neither she nor her husband liked the fake stuff. They were quite happy with the results when the opted use the real thing.

Thinking of today’s admonition to imitate God fills me with a little trepidation. Over the years I’ve seen some really bad imitations and imitators. My own example is not without moments of pitiful reflection. Thankfully, the period doesn’t come after the instruction. Have you ever considered what a difference it makes to know that you are a dearly loved child, that you are loved so much that Jesus gave himself up as a sacrifice for us out of love?

Some of the poorest examples are the result of playing at something folks “know” they are supposed to get and do, but don’t really understand. It reminds me of a guy in college who when the altar call was extended went and literally crawled upon the altar. He was trying to lay his all on the altar. He didn’t understand that God was asking for his life. Fortunately, he stuck around long enough to figure it out—both for him and the many hundreds of kids he worked with as a pastor.

So as we wade deeper into this time of preparation and readying, I wonder if it wouldn’t be good to spend some time at the spiritual mirror. When you think about seeing yourself as God sees you, what do you see? How’s your IQ, your imitation quotient? It will be seen in the way that you both receive and give love.

Wondering and Wandering to Christmas: Are You Feeling Lucky?

During my years of pastoral ministry, I had the privilege of working as assistant pastor to an extremely gifted man, Lester Clark. I learned so much from him. One of the things that shapes who I am and how I function can be directly attributed to Pastor Clark’s teaching. He didn’t believe in luck. He was so convinced on this matter that he didn’t call carry-in dinners Pot Lucks, he called them Pot Blessings.

Luck is defined as “a combination of circumstances, events, etc., operating by chance to bring good or ill to a person” (dictionary.com). Synonyms for luck include: happenstance, karma, and fortuitousness. For me the reason I don’t believe in luck is in the essence or definition: the idea of chance. Chance meeting. What are the chances of that happening?

If we believe in luck, then we would believe that it was fortuitous that Mary was betrothed to kind-hearted Joseph, a man who would go completely against the norm and go ahead and take her as his wife. We consider them quite fortunate for having shown up at the only inn with a stable still available and an inn keeper’s wife with a conscience when it came to sending a woman about to deliver out into the night. I don’t believe it was luck. I believe was God was working all things for good.

Another place where I don’t see luck, but rather see God is in the ways our paths cross at just the right time with people who touch and change our lives. When I was teaching classes in my last job, I would share with the class at the outset that I didn’t know why we were together, but that I completely believe that God put us there on purpose and for a purpose. I would refer to 1 Corinthians 12:18b: God has put each part just where he wants it (NLT).

Are you feeling lucky, or blessed? How do you look at and consider the circumstances of your life? Have you missed any divine appointments lately? Have you snarled about an inconvenience or interruption recently instead of considering God was working for your good or the good of someone around you? Consider changing your perspective and don’t leave anything to chance.

Day 23 Leftover Thanks

Today you will not find me lining the coffers of any greedy retailer. The other day Nelson asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I had no answer for him. Now that’s not to say I there aren’t things I would like to have (convertible laptop tablet and hazelnut coffee), but there isn’t anything I need. I’m hoping to get some Barnes and Noble gift cards so I can feed my hungry little Nook Tablet. But I don’t need any clothes and because of my ecsema I quit buying my favorite yummies from Bath and Body.

One of my favorite things for this day is leftovers. I love leftover turke–white meat only. The sweet potato and green bean casseroles always seem better the second day and beyond. And since we ate at home there will be lots to enjoy.

So today I am thankful for the bounty and the blessings. Yum!

Thanksgiving Thanks

I’m full of thanks for family, food, and football. I’m thankful that my daughters and grandchildren will be in my home today. I’m thankful that I am married to a man who loves to cook and is really, really good at it. And it goes without saying how happy I am to enjoy football with my family.

I’m blessed. I know it and I’m thank-full.

Day 21 Squiggly Thanks

Today I had to chuckle at myself. I was working and trying to get some writing done on my book before my little lady was up and about. At one point I was trying to figure out how to spell a word. The reason I was having trouble, I quickly discovered, was that I was pronouncing it wrong and therefore spelling it wrong. A couple other words were just not looking right. Several times I would stare at the screen, sure that I had spelled the word correctly, but the tell-tale red squiggly line remained.

Part of what made me chuckle was a conversation I had with the RHWC the other day. He is in first grade and wanting to spell everything. He gets very frustrated with our crazy language because no matter how many rules you know, there is always an exception. For example, the giggle you emit when you hear a joke (clue: laughter). Now spell the word that represents a female offspring (clue daughter). The RHWC knows that if you change the first letter on Hat to P, you get Pat. If laughter is pronounced “lafter” then shouldn’t daughter be “dafter”?

So today, I am thankful for little red squiggly lines that appear while I’m writing to keep me from looking and spelling like my first grade grandson. On him, it’s cute–on me: not so much.

Happy spelling. 🙂

Day 20 Loving the Morning

I’m thankful that I am a morning person. My alarm goes off at 4:45 in the monring. I am able to get up and start functioning and be at work at 6:00. I have always been this way. I took my hardest classes in college at 7:30AM: Greek and Philosophy.

Of course that means right now, I’m feeling like I could let my head hit the pillow.

Sweet dreams.

Day 19 Mema’s Gratitude

I pick the red-headed-wonder-child up from school on Mondays. Here was a our conversation in the car on the way to my house:
Mema: Hi Buddy.
RHWC: Hi Mema. How’s was your day?
M: It was good, Buddy, how about yours?
RHWC: It was excelentamundo.
M: Wow, that sounds like a special kind of day.
We talked then about some of the more challenging stuff he’s learning–he loves the challenge. Then we talked about Pilgrims and Indians and Math. Then he said:
RHWC: Mema, I hope you live for at least fifty more years.
M: That’s a lot of years, Buddy.
RHWC: Yeah, I know. But I want you around forever.
M: Thanks, Buddy. I hope I have a lot of years, but however many I have–each day is a treasure when I’m with you.
RHWC: For me too, Mema.

My heart just needed that dose of love.